


Mozzafiato Moments

by Wordsplat



Series: La La Love Verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Female Steve Rogers, First Love, Fluff, Prom, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5694619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsplat/pseuds/Wordsplat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The road to get there may have had a few bumps, but in the end, Tony and Steph's prom night is far better than any hype.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mozzafiato Moments

Steph had been acting strange lately.

Not bad-strange, exactly, but certainly different-strange. They’d been dating for close to three years, after all; they had patterns. Rhythms. Habits they’d fallen into early on in their relationship that Tony didn’t even think about these days, until Steph stopped doing them altogether. Things like seeking each other out between classes, sending random little pick-me-up texts throughout the day, walking home together…those sorts of things. Alone-together sorts of things.

They were still eating lunch with all their friends, but Steph would keep conversation with him light, simple. She’d dodge his attempts to walk her to class. She somehow had a ride home every day that wasn’t him. She’d let phone or text conversations peter off almost as soon as they started, when just the week before they’d giddily broken their previous record for longest phone call. If it were anyone else Tony would think they were avoiding him. But Steph wouldn’t do that, of course. At least not without telling him why. Right?

Of course not. He was letting stupid Clint and his stupid teasing get into his head. So what if they hadn’t been alone in over a week? They were busy people. Steph played football and worked a part-time job, Tony had the robotics team and a workshop full of projects, and they both had plenty of schoolwork. Sure, it was true that in the past they’d always managed to find a couple minutes for each other here and there anyway, but they were seniors now. Things were harder.

Still, they usually studied together. And they nearly always walked to classes together. And not to be That Guy, but this was also definitely the longest they’d gone without having sex. Not that he was fixated on that or anything, but he was a seventeen year old male; he couldn’t exactly help noticing. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m telling you dude, it’s a sign.”

“It’s not a sign,” Tony snapped.

“Ever heard of a soft breakup?” Clint persisted. “You spend less time together, start hanging out with other people…”

“It’s not a sign,” Tony repeated, beginning to get irritated. He turned to Rhodey for backup. “Help me out here.”

“I mean…” Rhodey hesitated entirely too long for Tony’s liking. Tony fixed him with an incredulous look. “Relax, I’m not saying she’s breaking up with you, I just…it’s gotta be a sign of _something._ You haven’t had a minute alone in over a week. That’s weird.”

“Well, obviously it’s weird.” Tony couldn’t help hunching his shoulders in a little defensively. She wasn’t breaking up with him. She _wasn’t._ “She probably just got another job, or something, and hasn’t had a chance to tell me yet.”

“She tells you everything, dude.” Clint shook his head. “You two are creepy close, always have been. Right now you’re not even regular close.”

“We’re at least regular close,” Tony argued, because plenty of couples he knew didn’t even sit together at lunch and Steph still…damn it. He pulled out his phone.

_r u coming to lunch?_

Clint shot him a pitying look. Tony pushed him off the lunch table. It was Clint’s own fault, always perching on it instead of sitting in his seat like a normal person.

_Sorry, have to study :(_

_I can help, Clint’s being a dick anyway. Where r u?_

_Thanks, but it’ll probably go faster if I study alone_

_True, but it won’t be nearly as fun_

_I really need to pass this test…next time :)_

Damn it.

Time for drastic measures.

“Tony, no,” Rhodey warned.

“Tony, yes,” Tony argued. “You don’t even know what I’m planning, you can’t just shut me down without hearing me out.”

“I absolutely _can_ shut you down without hearing you out,” Rhodey disagreed.

“Dude, last time you got that look the entire gym had to get fumigated,” Clint pointed out, entirely unhelpful as always.

“It wasn’t my fault! That dumbass Hammer is the one who added ammonium nitrate when I specifically said ammonium _chlorate_ —”

“Steph has told you a thousand times that she doesn’t need big gestures,” Rhodey reminded him. “Especially when they might get you or innocent bystanders hurt—”

“Nobody got _hurt—”_

“You had to wear a sling for two weeks!”

“It’s not like it was a cast! A sling is basically like a big band-aid, I was totally fine. Look, I’m just going to ask her to prom, that’s all. No big deal.”

Clint laughed. “When you asked her to prom last year, our skin stayed those colors for a week.”

“Obviously I’m not going to use the same shitty dye—”

“You’re not going to use _any_ dye,” Rhodey corrected.

“Obviously.” Tony waved him off. Copying old romantic gestures was tacky at best. “Don’t worry about it, no dye, I promise.”

“No explosives, either.”

“Right. Except for fireworks, I might need—”

“You do not need fireworks,” Rhodey said firmly.

“Not big ones, just a couple of those little sparklers—”

“No.”

“Killjoy.”

“Steph doesn’t need fireworks to know how smitten you are.” Rhodey bumped his shoulder. “Come on, you’re creative. You have to have at least one idea that doesn’t involve explosives or chemicals.”

“Well…” He’d been saving it for a big moment, but he supposed senior prom was a pretty damn big moment. “I guess I’ve got one.”

* * *

_I really need to pass this test…next time :)_

Steph reread the text for a third time, then a fourth, before clicking off the screen and stowing her phone away. She felt mean. Nothing about the text was mean at all, she’d promised a next time and thrown in a smiley face for good measure, but she felt mean all the same. She’d been blowing Tony off more and more lately. Every time managed to feel worse than the time before.

“Stop pouting at your phone and go talk to the guy,” Bucky insisted, careful to keep his voice to a whisper lest the librarian pay them another visit. Steph propped her textbook up on the library table, blocking his face.

“I’m studying. He’d distract me.”

“Right. Because I’m doing what, exactly?”

“You invited yourself along, that’s not my fault.”

“He doesn’t care, you _know_ he doesn’t care—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Steph whispered tersely, trying and failing to focus on what she was reading. She’d known he would bring it up, he’d brought it up every time they were alone in the past week. She really shouldn’t have let him come along.

“How does it fall on me to be the rational one here? You’ve been dating for three years, how can you possibly think he cares about—”

“I don’t think he cares.” She knew he didn’t. He’d proven it to her a hundred times over, and she didn’t doubt him. “But when we get there it’ll be different, there’ll be dancing and pictures and he might—”

“He takes pictures with you all the time, his whole instagram account is just a thousand different pictures of your face—”

“I know!” Steph flinched at her own volume, especially when half the library turned to look at them. She and Bucky ducked down and pretended to be fascinated with their textbooks. When the scrutiny subsided, Steph continued in a whisper, “I know, okay? I do. I know I’m being dumb, I know it’s superficial, I know he doesn’t care that I’m taller than him or bigger than him or whatever else but other people _do._ And if he doesn’t want to deal with that on a night that’s supposed to be the culmination of our high school experience—”

Bucky made a gagging sound. Steph glared, but finished her sentence anyway.

“—then I don’t want him to feel like he has to. I’m trying to…I don’t know, play it cool, or whatever. We’ve had other dances. If he actually wants to go, well, that’s great. And if he doesn’t, that’s fine too. But if we go I want it to be because he wants to go, not because he wants to make me happy.”

Bucky dropped his face onto the table. “I love you, but you are so dumb sometimes it’s painful.”

Steph flicked his forehead with a scowl.

“You’re not ‘playing it cool’,” Bucky muttered into the table. “You’re playing it ice cold, and Tony doesn’t have a clue what hit him.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Prom is just…it’s a big deal. It’s very public, he may not want—”

Bucky cut her off with an incredulous look. “We’re talking about a guy who got detention for arguing loudly and extensively with Richards about whose girlfriend is better. He’s not exactly private in his adoration of you.”

“The detention was less for arguing and more because he told Reed to suck a dick in front of a faculty member,” Steph pointed out.

“Ugh, would you look at your face? You’re smiling right now just at the memory.” Bucky reached across the table to pinch her cheek. She tried to tamp it down a little, but couldn’t quite manage to. Tony was ridiculous, sure, but that was half his charm; the other half was the overwhelmingly sweet sincerity that underlaid all his ridiculous plans. “He adores you just as much as you adore him. Think about that. Think about how it’d feel if he suddenly started pulling away, or turning you down for shit all the time. Think about how you’d feel if every time you tried to make it better, tried to fix things, he totally ignored you.”

“I haven’t ignored him,” Steph protested, but she was getting a little worried now that she was thinking about it. Those sounded like break-up signs, didn’t they? Tony couldn’t be thinking she wanted to break up with him…right?

“He’s been trying to get your attention for weeks.” Bucky shrugged. “You didn’t want to hear it. I’m a little surprised he hasn’t invested in a megaphone yet, tried pleading his case from the rooftops.”

“Oh, God.” It was Steph’s turn to press her face into the table. She covered her head with the book for good measure. “What have I done, Buck?”

How could she have done that to him? She’d just wanted to give him space, make sure he didn’t feel pressured to do the prom thing if he didn’t want to. She hadn’t meant to put any crazy ideas in his head. She couldn’t even imagine wanting to break up with him, but he’d probably been worried about it for weeks now. When was the last time she’d said she loved him? _Really_ said it, not just in passing or as a goodbye, and taken a moment to show him just how much she meant it? He must be so mad at her—

_“Hey there, Shield High!”_

Steph jerked her head up at the sound of Tony’s voice buzzing over the intercom. She and Bucky exchanged a look.

“Guess he didn’t want to shell out for a megaphone,” Bucky said.

_“So, some of you may have noticed I’m not Trish Walker. That’s because this isn’t your regular morning announcement—it’s not even morning, and this isn’t actually an announcement. Well, I guess it technically is, it’s just not your regular announcements, or a particularly school-sanctioned one—”_

_“Tony, point, get to it,”_ someone that sounded an awful lot like Clint reminded him.

_“Point is, this is a special announcement, for a very special girl, your and my favorite quarterback: Stephanie Rogers.”_

The two people in the library who hadn’t already put it together turned to stare at her too. She shifted her book higher so it hid the stupid-wide grin on her face. Yes, okay, stealing the intercoms to make a public announcement for her was ridiculous and a little crazy and would likely get him thrown in detention for at least a week, but.

He wasn’t mad at her.

They were gonna be okay.

_“As you all may know, senior prom is coming up, and I happen to somehow be dating the most amazing senior in this place. Hell, in this town, country, planet, whatever. Space, arguably, though I guess comparing her to aliens is kind of apples and oranges—”_

_“Dude.”_ Rhodey’s voice that time.

_“Right. Steph, I can’t imagine what I’ve done to deserve it, but I love you and I’m hoping you’ll let me escort you to prom anyway.”_

A smattering of applause broke out, Bucky leading it with the world’s smuggest look on his face. The first few times Tony had pulled something like this, Steph had been mortified; now, she just reacted with a sheepish sort of smile. She wasn’t going to pretend Tony didn’t go way over the top at times, but she also wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t make her feel special as hell that someone with as big a heart as Tony gave so much of it to her.

_“I suppose I actually—I didn’t totally think this through, I can’t hear you answering or anything, so—I mean, I’m pretty sure you’ll say yes. Guys, am I crazy to think she’ll—come on, don’t make that face, she’s the best girl in this place, she’s totally got her pick of all us losers—oh, shit, Rhodey, the door—heeeeey, Trish, how are you, good to see you, so I was just borrowing—ow!”_

There was a screech as the audio abruptly disconnected, then silence. Steph winced and started packing up her things. She ought to get down there, Trish took her job as school announcer extremely seriously and would not find Tony’s usual ‘but it was for love!’ excuses as charming as she did.

“Bucky, I—”

“Go save your prom date.” Bucky grinned.

“Call of Duty later?”

“Damn straight.”

She got halfway down the hall before pinpointing Tony’s chant of _ow ow ow_ and changing direction. She turned the corner and found Trish hauling Tony along by his ear, Rhodey and Clint trailing behind them. Trish released Tony with a nudge in Steph’s direction.

“I think this belongs to you?”

“Yeah.” Steph smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“He’s cute and all, but if he touches my equipment again he’s a dead man,” Trish warned.

“Completely fair,” Steph promised. Trish nodded at that and left them be, apparently satisfied.

“You know, when people threaten me you’re not supposed to agree with them,” Tony piped up a little sullenly, still rubbing his ear.

“Don’t touch other people’s things and they won’t threaten you.” Steph leaned in to kiss his cheek, soften the words. He smiled, a little shyly, and she was reminded of just how stupid her ideas about ‘not pressuring him’ had been. How worried had she made him, that a kiss on the cheek was enough to earn that look? “Yes, by the way.”

Tony’s smile turned up ten notches. “Yes?”

“Of _course_ yes.” She pulled him in for a kiss.

It wasn’t possible to put everything she was feeling at the moment into it—how sorry she was for making him worry, how grateful she was to have him in her life, how honored she was that out of everyone he kept choosing her—but she sure as hell tried to. When they parted, he looked…well, ‘wowed’ might be the best term.

“So, we’re gonna go,” Clint jerked a thumb in the other direction.

“Seems like you have this handled,” Rhodey agreed. He paused before leaving though, scrutinizing her a moment. “You’re going to prom with him, you still love him, there’s no weird surprise break-ups happening when we leave or anything—”

“Rhodey!” Tony hissed.

“I’m just checking!” Rhodey held his hands up.

“No surprise break-ups,” Steph assured, hating how relieved Tony looked. “No break-ups of any kind, I promise.”

“All I needed to hear.” Rhodey mock-saluted her, then both boys ducked around the corner and were gone.

“I have to admit, I, uh.” Tony rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m really glad to hear it. I wasn’t sure, you’ve been—busy, I guess, this week and last week, and I maybe sort of wondered—”

“I was making excuses not to see you,” Steph admitted. Tony’s eyes widened in hurt and surprise, and she quickly explained, “I wanted to see you, I really, really wanted to, and it’s been awful without you around, Bucky won’t shut up about how insufferable I’ve been—”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to prom with me.” She didn’t mean to keep interrupting him, but the words kept tumbling out before she could stop them. Maybe fast was the best way to do it, anyway; like a band-aid. “I know we’ve been to dances before, but this would be the first time where I’m all…y’know, and I…I guess I just didn’t want to make you feel pressured to do anything you didn’t want to.”

Tony’s surprised panic would’ve been comical under different circumstances.

“Steph, oh my god, if I’ve ever done anything to make you think—”

“No, Tony, it’s not you, you haven’t done anything—”

“—that I don’t completely and totally love you exactly the way you are, _any_ way you are—”

“I know you do, I just thought with all the pictures and the fuss that maybe—”

“—I swear to god I’ll go physically take the microphone right back out of Trish’s hands—”

“Tony, _no_ , do not _—”_

“—lock the doors, and tell you and the whole damn world exactly how much I love you, all of you, all the time—”

“Tony.” She took him by the shoulders to stop his rant, because it was really very important that he get this part. She told him slowly and clearly, “Do not do that.”

“It’s a metaphor, I wasn’t really—”

“If I asked you to go do it right now, would it still be a metaphor?”

Tony made a face, then admitted, “No.”

“Okay then.” She paused, bent to kiss him. “I know you love me, Tony. I love you too. So much it feels like my heart could burst sometimes. I just also know that we’re not such a normal-looking couple anymore.”

“Babe, we’ve never been a normal-looking couple,” Tony disagreed. “We’ve always been prettier than the rest of them.”

Steph laughed. “I’m glad you see it that way.”

“Everyone sees it that way. Some of them don’t want to admit it, sure, but that’s their problem. They’re just jealous because now we’re prettier _and_ we could kick their asses,” he assured, sticking his chin up confidently.

Steph laughed again, unable to help it. Tony always did have a knack for making her laugh. It’d gotten them in trouble more often than she could count, and was easily one of her favorite things about him. He shuffled a little closer with a smile, getting that soft, earnest sort of look in his eyes as he leaned forward to cup her face in both hands.

“I don’t care about what anyone in the world thinks half as much as I care about you. You know that, right?”

She nodded. “You know I’d go steal Trish’s radio right this minute if you asked me to, right?”

She’d never been nearly as good as Tony was with words. No matter how hard she tried, she was never quite able to relay how extraordinarily lucky she was to have him in her life, or how he made everything a little bit better and brighter just by being there. He always seemed to understand her anyway. Just one more thing to be grateful for. Even now, he was beaming at her like she’d recited the most romantic poem of all time.

“Yeah, I know.” Tony went up on his toes a little to kiss her, dropping his hands from her face to her waist to tug her in closer. When they broke the kiss, he bumped her nose with his. “Wanna know my favorite thing about your growth spurt?”

She smiled. She knew the answer to that one. “Going up on your toes?”

Tony grinned in return. “Makes me feel like I’m—”

“—in a romance novel,” Steph finished for him with a laugh. “So you’ve said.”

“Feel free to sweep me off my feet anytime, princess.” Tony winked.

“How about tonight?” It’d been far, far too long since they’d had a moment alone. Just because it was her fault didn’t mean she hadn’t missed the hell out of him.

“Absolutely,” Tony answered fervently. She got the feeling he was thinking along the same lines she was. He moved at the same moment she did, and they kissed again until the bell rang for the end of lunch.

* * *

Tony’s life was kind of awesome.

Actually, to say ‘kind of’ was a disservice: Tony’s life was totally and completely awesome. He not only had his girlfriend back but also the knowledge that she’d never really wanted any distance in the first place, and they both had a renewed appreciation for the relationship. They were back to texting all the time, they’d broken their record for longest phone call and then quickly broken it again, and Tony had repeatedly and enthusiastically shown Steph precisely how much he enjoyed her body just the way it was.

Clint had called them co-dependent in the past, but he’d mostly been joking. This week he wouldn’t be too far off the mark.

The only time he’d been left in the dark was while Steph went dress shopping. All he was allowed to know was the color, so he could coordinate his suit, and even then he’d only been given the world’s closest close-up on a small swatch of the fabric. It was a soft blue, Cinderella-esque; it would match her eyes.

After a little consideration, he’d forwarded the blurry shot to his mother. His parents were abroad for a business trip, wouldn’t even be back in time to see him out the door, but he couldn’t help but hope that maybe she’d be interested in helping him with the outfit. She texted him back the number of the family tailor.

_Best of luck, darling, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time._

He deleted the tailor’s number and went suit shopping with the guys instead. The tailor’s suit would’ve been nicer, maybe, probably, but shopping with the guys made him feel better than standing around getting pinned for an hour would have. Well, ‘shopping with the guys’ was a bit more like two weeks of screwing around and one rushed, panicked day of actual shopping, but it worked out in the end. Mostly because Bucky secretly phoned Nat, who ambushed them at the store, vetoed half their choices, and dressed them in much more appropriate attire. Tony snapchatted Steph a zoomed-in little square of his tie. She approved.

Whenever he was at her house over the next few weeks he tried to sneak a peek of the dress, but Steph cut him off at the pass every time. It became a little bit of a game, him trying to find her dress, her trying to find his suit, but in the end the game was pointless. Nothing on Earth could’ve prepared him for the sight of her in that dress.

When he was younger, his mother had often spoken Italian with him. Not full strings, just little words here and there, words she preferred to their English counterparts. He’d quickly picked up those bits and pieces, peppering them into his sentences for a flourish just like she did. Once he’d started attending school his father and teachers had trained him out of it, but certain words had lingered anyway. Words that rang better in Italian, that never quite hit the mark when translated into anything else.

“Mozzafiato,” Tony breathed. He heard the snap of a camera, but he couldn’t have torn his eyes from Steph just then even if he’d wanted to.

“What?” Steph’s expression flickered, a moment of confusion before the look of awe on Tony’s face must’ve chased it away. She smiled a little. “Haven’t heard that one before.”

He’d shared a couple words with Steph— _tesoro,_ primarily, his favorite pet name, the one he only ever used with her—but this one hadn’t come up. He couldn’t think of a better moment for it.

“Mozzafiato,” he repeated, because god, she still looked it. “It means, uh. Breath-taking. Sort of. There’s not really a good equivalent, it’s like—it’s like the beauty of something physically slapping you in the face.”

Steph’s smile grew wider, a little amused but mostly just pleased. “In a good way?”

“In the best way,” Tony swore. “I just—you look amazing, Steph. Completely amazing.”

She was still at the top of the stairs. It might as well have been a thousand miles away for how badly he wanted her in his arms. She had one hand poised on the railing, the other tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the rest of which was swept off her shoulders in a series of twists and curls that ended in a low bun held together by twinkling little snowflake pins. The dress was elegant, all smooth, shimmery blue fabric that wrapped snugly around her waist before flowing out down to her feet, but it was Steph herself that made it perfect. She always looked beautiful to him—in morning haze, in post-workout sweat, in unguarded sleep—but there were certain moments that Tony found himself struck absolutely _mozzafiato_ by just how very blessed he was that Steph had ever looked twice at him.

She looked absolutely celestial, and he was inexorably drawn in.

“Ah ah ah.” Steph’s mom stopped him as he started up the steps. “Wait, I want a picture of her up there.”

“Right, of course.” God, who wouldn’t? He stepped back, let her mom get the shot. She took a few while Steph put on an impatient sort of smile, then finally gestured for Steph to come down.

Tony held out a hand as she reached the last step. Steph smiled brightly, took it. Her mom snapped a photo.

“You two look just perfect.” She gestured for them to turn. Tony rested a hand on the small of Steph’s back as they complied, glanced up at her; she was at least a head taller than him in heels. He could feel his heart swell a little more with pride.

Steph had been sick for junior prom. He’d come over anyway and decorated her room as close to the gym as he could get it, with streamers and a disco ball and even a punch bowl, but she hadn’t felt well enough to dance to more than one or two songs. They mostly hung out in bed, talking and listening to cheesy prom music while binging on pizza and crappy punch. It was one of his favorite memories, despite inevitably catching her flu and being bed-ridden all next week, and he was pretty sure it was one of her favorites too.

Still, he remembered how useless she’d felt, how disappointed that she couldn’t go out with all their friends and join the party. Guilty even, for ‘making’ Tony stay behind, as if he had any desire to go without her. She’d worked so hard over the last year to get better. To be stronger, healthy enough to qualify for the football team. And now she was Captain. Who else could do something like that? Who else had that kind of iron will in them? She’d been the strongest person Tony ever met long before she could bench press him.

“Tony, dear, I need at least one shot where you’re looking at the camera,” Steph’s mom teased.

“Yep, sure.” Tony straightened up and faced forward. Steph bumped his shoulder, pleased.

They exchanged flowers, touches lingering as he slipped the corsage over her wrist and she pinned the boutonniere to his lapel. The others started showing up in pairs soon after—Rhodey and Carol, Bucky and Natasha, Clint and Bobbi, Sam and Sharon, Happy and Pepper—so Steph’s mom could photograph the group together. They took dozens of shots, some serious, most silly, to commemorate the night. Afterwards they headed to dinner in the limo Tony had arranged, trading sips of the champagne Rhodey had smuggled along. Dinner was a blast, the highlight being when, sometime around dessert, Clint and Sam discovered they were playing footsie with each other and not their girlfriends. Bobbi and Sharon just laughed and announced that they’d known since the appetizers.

By the time they got to the school the gym was packed to the rafters. After an ungodly wait in line and shedding their various jackets and purses at the coat check, they finally waded through the crowd and hit the dance floor. He and Steph had never been great dancers, but for now the music was mostly upbeat pop songs, so goofily bopping around the dance floor was really all that was required.

Rhodey and Carol’s competitiveness eventually got the better of them, which evolved into a dance contest that lasted until Natasha took the floor and showed them all up. At their table by the sideline, Bucky grinned at them loosely. It was possible he’d been drinking the punch.

“That’s my girlfriend!” he yelled over the noise.

“We know, Buck!” Steph yelled back.

“No no no, _she’s_ my _girlfriend!”_ Bucky enunciated as clearly as he could manage.

“We get it!” Tony agreed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Nat’s your girl, really happy for you!”

“Right, but _I’m_ her _boyfriend—”_

“Dude—”

“We’re dating!” Bucky proclaimed happily in greeting as Natasha strutted back over to them.

“Sure are.” She kissed his cheek, tugged him along by the wrist. “Come dance with me.”

“I’m gonna go dance with my girlfriend!” Bucky called over his shoulder as he followed her off. Next to Tony, Steph snickered.

“Can’t blame him for being excited,” Tony told her. “I remember our first dance. I’m pretty sure I repeated ‘Steph said yes, oh my god, Steph said yes’ to Rhodey at least a dozen times.”

Steph laughed. “You did that at school. Sober. Three lockers away from me.”

“I figured if I said it close to his ear that might somehow count as subtle.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s only subtle if you whisper.”

“Yeah, well. He forgave me.”

“No, I didn’t.” Across the table, Rhodey made a show of rubbing his ear. “I’m still a little deaf in that ear.”

“You are not.” Tony scoffed.

“What was that?” Rhodey called, cupped his ear. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“Piss off!” Tony yelled with a grin, batting his eyelashes. “Loud enough for you, honeybear?”

“What’d you say? ‘I want you to keep the limo tonight’? Thanks so much, Tony, that means a lot—”

“Not gonna happen.” Tony shook his head with a smirk. He had plans for that limo, thank you very much.

“I’m pretty sure I heard you say—” Rhodey’s argument stopped short as the music slowed. “Temporary truce. Carol?”

“Eh…” She teased, but the look on her face gave her away. She smiled as she stood and accepted his hand. Sam and Sharon followed after, Happy and Pepper not far behind. Clint and Bobbi exchanged a reluctant look.

“I suppose someone should watch the table…” Steph pointed out, though she was looking at the dance floor with obvious hope.

“We’ll stay,” Clint and Bobbi said at the same time. Tony grinned, extended a hand to Steph.

“May I have this dance?”

“Dork,” Clint coughed into his hand.

“Always.” Steph ignored them completely, smiling back at him like he was all she saw.

“Sap,” Bobbi coughed into her hand.

“Yeah, we’re the strange ones.” Steph rolled her eyes at them as she accepted Tony’s hand up, let him lead her into the crowd of slow-dancers.

“They’re just jealous,” he told her.

She squeezed his hand with a fond smile. “You think everyone’s jealous.”

“Correction: I _know_ everyone’s jealous.” Tony stopped when they found a pocket of space in the crowd, turned to face her and draw her into his arms. They’d slow-danced enough to know where to put their hands, though not enough that he expected his toes to go unscathed. Worth it. “Anyone who isn’t clearly just doesn’t know you like I do.”

“I don’t think anyone could know me quite like you do.” Steph stroked her thumb along his cheek.

“Less competition for me, then.” Tony smiled. She traced the corner of it for a moment.

“No competition at all,” she told him. He felt his cheeks warm; she could do that to him sometimes, no matter how long they’d been dating. It was less about the words and more the way she looked at him, like he was her hero and her best friend and the love of her life all rolled into one, and he’d find himself blushing like they’d only just met.

They stayed there a while, breaking apart only when she stepped on his foot for the third time and he winced just a little bit too much for her to miss it.

“Damn it, I swear I’ve been practicing—”

“Did something happen? I didn’t feel any—”

“Don’t even start.” She swatted him. “You say that every time. And I’m not a feather anymore either, so don’t pretend—”

“It’s just my toes, babe, they’re basically useless anyway—”

“Tony.”

She was clearly trying not to laugh. He coaxed her in close again, and when she relaxed a little, he added, “I mean, unless you have a foot fetish you haven’t told me about…”

She smacked his arm, but it didn’t stop her from laughing. He smiled.

“Have I ever told you that your laugh is my favorite sound?”

“Have I ever told you that you’re an enormous sap?” Steph leaned down, kissed him sweetly. “Love you, though.”

“I love you too.” The words weren’t enough to capture the extent of how he felt, but they were closer than any others he had. She smiled back at him like maybe she knew the feeling. She gave up any pretenses of space, pulling him in close so he could rest his head on her shoulder. Easily his second-favorite thing about her growth spurt.

“You really are the best, you know,” she told him with a hum.

“Best what?”

“Just the best,” she answered softly. He felt his cheeks warm again. He didn’t bother willing it away.

They stayed like that a while, swaying gently, not bothering with any more footwork. Tony could have stayed there forever, but soon enough their student body president was calling for everyone’s attention.

“Hey everyone, having a good time?” Jan greeted them all with a smile and a wave, Hank mimicking it stiffly beside her. “Well, it’s that time of night now, are you ready to meet your Prom King and Queen?”

“I forgot to vote,” Steph admitted quietly. “Who was on the ballot?”

“Don’t worry, I voted for both of us,” Tony told her. “And maybe for a couple students that might not technically exist.”

“Why would you—” Confusion cleared away in an instant. “Oh no, Tony, tell me you didn’t—”

“First up we have our King…” Jan gestured at the band, who started doing a drumroll. She flicked open the envelope Hank presented to her. “Sam Wilson! Sam, get on up here!”

Sam gave Sharon a quick kiss on the cheek then jogged up to the stage. Jan presented him with a crown; he knelt down to receive it like a knight, the picture of seriousness. The crowd laughed. While Sam gave his thank-you speech, Steph elbowed him.

“You were kidding, right? About the ballots?”

“I love you?”

_“Tony—”_

“And now for Prom Queen! Hank?” Jan held out a hand. Hank passed her a new envelope. “This year’s Prom Queen is…Stephanie Rogers! Steph, come join us!”

“I’m going to kill you,” Steph mouthed quietly at him before kissing his cheek and heading over to the stage.

“I love you babe! Whoo, yeah Steph!” Tony just cheered louder. He tried to get a chant-and-clap going. “Ste-pha-nie, Ste-pha-nie, Ste-pha-nie!”

To his surprise, it actually kind of took off. Not that Steph didn’t totally deserve a chant-and-clap, people just tended to ignore his enthusiasm these days when it came to Steph-related things. By the time she reached the stage their volume was near-deafening. Tony, he was proud to say, was still the loudest by a longshot. He also continued to cheer past when the others stopped, until Rhodey came over and clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Thanks, Rhodey.” Steph laughed. “And thanks, Tony. I know you mean well. But it couldn’t have just been Tony voting for me, much as he tried, so thanks to everyone who did. This past year has seen some pretty big changes for me, a lot of which would’ve been much harder without your understanding and support, so. Thanks for having me as your team Captain, and now, I guess, your Prom Queen. My college applications will look pretty interesting.” A smattering of laughter, though Tony knew it was just a line. She sent off her applications ages ago. “It’s been a pleasure and an honor.”

She and Sam had their bows and took a few pictures with Jan, then Tony and Sharon were called over for group shots.

“What does this make me?” Tony considered his possibilities as he mugged for the camera. “Prom First Man?”

“That’s for presidents,” Steph pointed out, camera-smile not so much as flickering while she added, “And don’t think you’re off the hook for putting me on the ballot.”

“I actually didn’t,” he admitted. Her camera-smile wavered just a second in surprise. “I was going to, obviously, but someone beat me to it. I just voted for you. And used your vote to vote for you.” She shot him a pointed look. “Oh come on, I knew you’d forget. Besides, two votes does not a Prom Queen make. You probably didn’t even need my vote.”

“I’m the one who put you on the ballot, actually,” Jan interjected. “We try to start off with a few likely names, then let people nominate whoever else they like. We started with you, Carol, and Ororo, I think.”

“Wow…really?” Steph looked surprised. She always managed to be surprised, no matter how many times people told her how inspiring she was, how much they looked up to her. Tony supposed part of what made her such a damn good role model was how sincerely oblivious she was to the fact.

“Of course really.” Jan patted her arm. “Smile, just a couple more shots.”

They tried to dance a little more after all the pictures, but with people coming up to them every other minute to give congratulations, it just wasn’t the same. They snuck out after another half hour and headed up to the roof. They’d had their first kiss there after their first dance, Homecoming that time, and though the moment was worlds away now it felt close all the same. They stayed until the dance ended, Steph wrapped up in Tony’s jacket, Tony wrapped up in her arms.

Bucky and Nat ended up stealing the limo, the sneaky bastards, but Tony found he didn’t mind all that much. Sure, he’d had plans for it, and sure, there were certain expectations of The Big Prom Night…but it had all been so damn perfect already that Tony wasn’t quite feeling the pressure. Besides, they’d been together three years; they didn’t need to prove anything, and certainly not to each other.

They made out on the rooftop a little bit, but it was lazy and slow, without intent. When Steph suggested they go back to his place and get the hell out of these clothes, he knew exactly what she meant.

His parents hardly cared if he had Steph over or not, but with them gone, Jarvis would be watching the house—Jarvis, who didn’t stay up past nine and would be very crabby if awoken at one in the morning by ‘teenage shenanigans’—so it added an element of sneaky fun. After paying the taxi driver they slipped in through the back door, keeping the lights off and holding hands to navigate, snickering and shushing each other in turn. They made their way to the kitchen first, stockpiling on snacks, before heading up to Tony’s room.

The door was barely closed before Steph had dropped her heels and started shimmying out of her dress, obviously both relieved and exhausted. She stole a tank top and Tony’s favorite sweatpants, the ones they bickered over every time, the ones she’d ‘accidentally’ worn home on more than one occasion. Any other night he’d fight her for them and she damn well knew it, but tonight he figured it was the least she deserved. Stunning as she’d looked, she’d never enjoyed playing dress up.

He leaned in to loop an arm around her waist, going up on his toes to press a kiss to the side of her head.

“If you get the pants, I get first movie,” he warned, but it was a mild threat at best given their similar taste.

“Fair enough,” Steph agreed, a knowing smile gracing her face as she started undoing the curls that held her bun together. “Hold these? My mom’ll kill me if I lose them.”

He took a seat on the bed while she passed him at least a dozen snowflake pins, and found himself beginning to understand why she dreaded this stuff. Curls down and dress off, she seemed finally able to take a full breath. She shot him a half-smile.

“I know you liked the dress,” she told him apologetically. “What was it you called me? Mozzafieta?”

“Mozzafiato.” Tony tucked the pins safely in his pocket then drew her in, tugging until she came right between his legs so he could hook them around her, trap her there. The smell of her perfume drifted in the air between them, the same soft, vaguely floral scent as always, barely there but still enough to stir warmth in him at the familiarity. Her curls hung loose and free around her neck now, her body unwinding similarly in his hold. She’d looked beautiful in the dress, no question, but she hadn’t looked relaxed. Comfortable. Her shoulders had been tense, her back straight and poised to look as perfect as possible; she looked much softer now, more real. He liked that better. “You’re always mozzafiato to me. Seeing you a new way just reminds me how much, sometimes.”

“Charmer,” she teased, but dipped forward to kiss him anyway, forearms resting on his shoulders in a loose hold. When she pulled back, it was only to tell him, “You’re pretty damn mozzafiato yourself, handsome.”

“What, this ugly mug?” Tony grinned, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s alright.”

“Your face,” Steph told him with an air of solemn seriousness, clasping it between both hands for full effect. “Is the best of all faces. So decrees Shield High’s official Prom Queen, ruling authority over handsome faces everywhere.”

Tony burst into laughter. “You realize that’s your first official decree ever? You can’t take that back.”

“I wouldn’t take it back,” Steph defended, a hint of pride in her voice. “Not this, not anything.”

“Nothing at all?” Tony coaxed, just to hear her say it again.

“Nope.” Steph popped the ‘p’ with a wide smile. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, darn.” Tony grinned back, pulling her forward by of the back of her thighs until she half-climbed half-toppled into his lap with a laugh.

The hot pockets they’d microwaved quickly went cold, though thankfully the majority of their snacks were fine to stay for a bit while they made out some more. After a little while Tony’s fancy suit proved to be entirely too restrictive, so they paused for him to strip down. Once in his boxers and a t-shirt he got off the floor, he turned back around to find that Steph had snagged the remote.

“What happened to you get pants, I get first movie?” Tony demanded in his best ‘betrayed’ voice. Steph said nothing, just shot him puppy dog eyes and a killer pout. “Damn it.”

The pout immediately morphed to a beaming smile. Worth it. He grabbed the red vines and rejoined her on the bed, cozying up under the blankets while she flipped through their options. He drifted into sleep sometime between Galaxy Quest and Episode V, popcorn and candy and shed clothes strewn around him, Steph still curled against his side.

A perfect end to a perfect night.


End file.
